


Until she didn't

by autisticblueteam



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/F, Implied Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:58:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5267051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autisticblueteam/pseuds/autisticblueteam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because that was what Agent South Dakota did, she survived.<br/>“Shoot m−”<br/>Until she didn’t.<br/>____<br/>Agent South Dakota, from the day her brother died to the day Washington killed her.<br/>(Written for RvB Ladies Night on Tumblr)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until she didn't

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first proper fanfic for this fandom, and the first fanfic I've published for any fandom in months. I saw RvB Ladies Night had started over on tumblr, and decided it was time to get back into the fanfiction game with some South exploration.
> 
> This is based off a theory I saw here on tumblr ages ago and loved. Chances are, since the fan guide has come out, bits and pieces of what's written here may have been disproved or at the very least may need some tweaking to suit 'canon', but honestly as far as I'm concerned this is canon for me.

They’d been on the run for years. She’d stopped keeping count of exactly how many. She didn’t even know what day it was anymore. Whether it was a Sunday afternoon or a Wednesday morning didn’t exactly matter when every waking moment was spent trying not to get captured or killed. Or worse, as North would say, having Theta taken away.

South scoffed at that thought. Of _course_ her brother would say that; never mind the fact that that purple lightbulb was the reason they were in this mess in the first place.

It was just another day on the run, really. They’d started moving at the crack of dawn; North had taken watch for the third night in a row and whilst South wasn’t going to complain about getting to sleep, his sluggishness was now beyond the point of simply slowing them down. Not that North would hear a word on it, insisting that he was fine even when South had offered to take watch – not something she did lightly. But if she had to stop him falling flat on his face when he dosed off mid-step again, there was going to be hell to pay.

“South, have you set your trackers today?” And then there was that. The constant, endless stream of questions about her _trackers_ or her medical systems or the goddamn bubble shield she couldn’t even _use_. It had to have been the tenth time he’d asked in the past hour, at least, that was the time she’d stopped keeping count at. It had probably been a lot more.

So she groaned, walking ahead of him by several long strides but closer than usual. Just in case he fell on his stupid face again, you know, “Yes, North. I’ve set my fucking trackers!”

She hadn’t set her fucking trackers. She hadn’t set her trackers in days.

“Alright, alright. No need to bite my head off,” The statement was punctuated by a yawn. A yawn that he tried to muffle, but was projected directly into her ears by her helmet’s radio. She pretended not to notice, let him have that one, “I’m just making sure.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever bro,” She grumbled, waving a hand back at him dismissively. She trusted her own senses over her trackers any day; she was trained for this stuff. She’d done countless missions without her trackers on and most of the time she ignored them even if they were enabled. She didn’t _need_ them, “I thought you had the damn lightbulb on scanning duty anyway.”

“ _Theta_ ,” He punctuated its name in a way that made it sound like he was telling off a naughty child for saying a bad word, “is on long range scanning duty. Trackers are close range.”

“Right. Of course.”

“South.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ve already said, my fucking trackers are on,” She rolled her eyes behind her visor, scanning over the territory ahead of them for any sign of anything. There wasn’t anything. There never was, “We haven’t seen anything in forever anyway. You sure this fucking dick is even still on our asses?”

“Yes, I’m sure. He wants Theta.”

She rolled her eyes again. It became a reflex reaction when you were around North for nearly three decades straight, give or take a few days, “ _It_.”

“South, I’m not going to call him an ‘it’. That’s still Maine in there. This is Sigma’s fault,” North said, another yawn breaking his sentence in half. South ignored it again. He’d only deny he was tired anyway.

She scoffed at him, shaking her head, “Good ol’ North. You always have to try and see the good in someone. Because Maine was known for being such a big softy.” She ignored the memories of the times Maine could be seen laughing with Washington; she ignored the times she’d seen him carrying Connie around on his back just because she asked; she ignored the time he’d shielded her from bullets on a mission and was stuck in medical for two weeks.

It was easier not to remember a time before everything went to shit.

“That’s not the point South. The point is this isn’t him.”

“Yeah yeah, well whether it’s ‘him’ or ‘it’, you still think it’s coming for us. Well, for the lightbulb,” South saw his foot catch on a rock out of the corner of her eye, saw him nearly stumble and fall flat on his front. She sighed and dropped her pace, only a stride ahead of him now. She could see an abandoned compound up ahead. They’d have to take a break there.

“South, could you quit calling him that?”

“Why? It’s just a computer program. It doesn’t care.”

“South, please.”

South didn’t answer. She just bit her tongue, to stop herself from saying something she’d regret. She’d bitten too hard and drawn blood, the metallic taste filling her mouth. She swallowed hard.

There was an awkward silence as they approached the abandoned compound. North was clearly waiting for South to say something first, and she’d simply refused to speak on principle. North was also yawning and stumbling more than ever, tripping over non-existent rocks and pathetically trying to cover up his yawns with coughs.

Once they got to that compound she was going to make him sleep, no matter how much the fucker protested.

The silence persisted as they walked up into the compound, punctuated by another yawn from North and a quiet groan from South. She scanned the area quickly and saw nothing, fully expecting North to have Theta do a scan anyway. He always did. He didn’t trust her senses.

By then the silence was starting to bug even South. North was clearly still waiting on her to say something, but she wasn’t about to fall for his bait –

“South−”

Then she had had enough, holding her tongue be damned: “Look, I just don’t get it! You think we’re being tracked down, hunted like animals, because of that fucking lightbulb in your head! I don’t understand why you don’t just… just pull the damn thing! Pull it and leave it so we can be _free_!”

They could have been on a distant planet. They could have been on a colony at the edge of the UNSC’s reach, hidden away where they’d never be found by anyone from Project Freelancer let alone this _thing_ that was chasing them! They could have a normal fucking life, for once! She could have her _own life_ , for once!

She didn’t say any of this. She figured it was implied.

But North just sighed, leaning against a wall and raising a hand to his visor, holding his helmet as he would have his head, “South, I can’t just leave him to be taken by that thing. He’d be so scared. I couldn’t do that to him. He trusts me.”

Her fists clenched, her arms flew out at her sides, “It’s a _computer program_ , Noah! It’s a _fucking computer program in your head_! And it’s going to get us killed!”

“South, stop it! He can hear you!” Oh of course the thing could hear her. She _wanted_ it to hear her.

“So?!”

There was a beat of silence. Her arms fell to her sides but her fists remained clenched tight, tight enough that the armour plating was digging into her fingers. Her teeth were gritted, her face was probably flushed red. She hated how it did that. She hated how angry she was. But she was just so _fed up_.

The silence was broken by North’s sigh, “You don’t understand, South.”

She snorted, “No, perhaps I don’t. I never did get to join your exclusive little club, did I? So no. I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you value the ‘feelings’ of that computer program over our lives!”

“Because he trusts me, and I care about him!”

“And what about me, huh?! Do you care about me?!” And that was what it came down to really, wasn’t it?

She could practically hear North’s face soften behind his visor, “South… of course I do.”

Another snort, “Then you need to rethink your priorities, don’t you?” She sighed, reloading her gun, “Sit down. Get some fucking sleep before you pass out whilst we’re walking. And don’t even open your fucking mouth to protest, North. Sit down. Get some sleep.”

North hesitated, but eventually he sat down against a pillar. Quiet snores filled the silence within seconds.

South shook her head, holding her gun ready as she took a seat one pillar over from her brother. She wasn’t about to spend hours standing up for no reason, she could keep watch from the ground.

She ignored Theta when he popped up, tried to talk to her.

She ignored the mumblings of North in his sleep.

She tried to ignore the tears stinging her eyes.

It couldn’t have been more than an hour later when she was jolted from her thoughtless silence by a noise. A low growling noise, an all too familiar sound that sent a shiver down her spine.

She was on her feet in an instant, kicking North in the side, “North, wake up! It’s here! It’s fucking found us!”

North groaned, sitting up, “What…?”

“It’s fucking here! Get up!” She was holding her gun up, looking around for where the thing was hiding. She could hear North getting to his feet behind her, the click of his gun and the scuffing of his armour against the floor.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know! I heard it fucking growl so it’s close by! Watch your back, do not let anything get up behind you!” She barked, gritting her teeth and growling quietly under her breath as she scanned around. Her HUD wasn’t painting any hostiles, but she figured it wouldn’t. That would be too easy, “North, keep fucking talking to me.”

“I won’t let him get behind me.”

“Keep fucking talking. Can’t afford to look at you.”

“South, I don’t see anything, are you sure−?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure! I−” And then she caught a flash out of the corner of her eye, and jumped back just in time to avoid the explosive round that was headed right for her, “Fuck! We’re out in the goddamn open!”

And they really were. So determined to get her brother to get some sleep so they could move on she hadn’t thought to walk deeper into the complex. She could still see the entrance from where she stood, looking for any sign of movement, and she knew the thing must have been watching them. It’d probably been on their tail the whole time.

“It’s here, we just can’t see it.”

“He has the others' armour enhancements, doesn’t he?”

South didn’t felt the need to answer.

“South, we need to get to cover.”

“I know.”

“ _South_.”

She could hear the uneasy note in his voice. He was either worrying about the chance of a close quarters fight with the thing, or about Theta. It was probably both. He never had been good at hand to hand, he was a marksman, not a fighter and against this thing there were few of even their rank who would stand a chance. She wasn’t even going to kid herself and pretend she was one of them.

“I _know_!” She swung her gun onto her back, glancing briefly at North whose gun was still trained ahead of him, before fumbling with her other supplies. Her hand closed around what she was looking for, and she flicked her eyes around, “North, get ready to hide.”

“South, what’s the plan?”

With her arm twisted behind her back she raised her hand so it would be visible if he looked over and coughed, catching his attention. He must have seen what she wanted him to, because he didn’t ask any more questions.

“Alright, on your mark.”

South nodded. She looked around; there was still no sign of it. It was good, she had to give it that. She knew it had to be close, she could feel it running up her spine. It wasn’t going to give its position away with another shot. It was going to come in for the kill.

“Now!”

There was a loud bang as the room filled with light. South, her HUD adjusted to compensate, grabbed her gun from her back and tore off down one of the corridors. The thing roared in shock and fury behind her and she could hear explosions as it fired off its weapon wildly. No screams. North probably got to cover too.

She fucking hoped he got to cover too.

It had become far more than just another day on the run.

When the light faded she was pressed up to a wall in a dark corner, concealed but with a clear view of the way she had come. It would be an ‘I can see you, but you can’t see me’ kind of situation. In theory. But theory was all she had, with her heart racing so fast her HUD was blaring warnings at her; with her body shaking as she tried to focus on what was happening.

North better have gotten to _fucking_ cover.

She didn’t know how long she was waiting there, holding her breath to try and quell the shaking. She didn’t dare open the helmet radio for fear that she would be heard. She didn’t dare move from her position with no idea where that thing had gone. She still had no idea if North was alright. Had the thing got to him? Had it gotten him and she just didn’t hear? Was North dead?

The thought made her feel like she was going to be sick. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths to push the bile back down her throat. It burned. She opened her eyes.

“Oh _fucking_ son of a _bit_ −”

And then its hand was around her throat and her head was slammed against the wall. Her mouth dropped open in a silent gasp. Her head was spinning. It pulled her away from the wall and slammed her back with twice as much force. And again. And again. How was she still – and _again_.

She let out a choked groan, slurred and faint as every coherent thought left her.

She hadn’t set her fucking _trackers_.

She could feel blood running down the side of her face, a tingling sensation ten times stronger than it should be. There was blood between her teeth where she’d bitten her tongue. There was a flowering ache in her temple. It didn’t stop. It was going to kill her like this; it was going to kill her by smashing her head to pieces against a fucking wall.

Just the kind of thing Maine would do. Huh. Maybe he _was_ in there somewhere.

Her head felt about ready to explode as it pulled her away from the concrete wall – now cracked and crumbling – once more. She was sure the next blow would knock her out, if not kill her outright. Either way, she wasn’t going to be aware for whatever happened next. That was probably for the best.

But just as it reared to send her smashing through the wall again, she heard the one thing that could simultaneously lift her spirits and tear her heart in half at the same time:

“ _SOUTH!_ ”

She had one thought as she was thrown into the wall one last time. North was going to fucking die. North was going to fucking die and it was her stupid fucking fault. All her stupid fucking fault.

She hadn’t set her _fucking_ trackers.

* * *

North was dead.

She was alone. Well, unless you counted Wash. But she didn’t. He wasn’t really talking to her. He wasn’t really talking at all. The kid was still messed up after that AI killed itself in his fucking head, she guessed. She remembered him screaming, vaguely. It was a long time ago now, and North was always closer to him than she was.

Closer to anyone than she was, really.

Except Connie. Fuck, that hurt. She pushed that thought back into the deep recesses of her mind.

Anyway, North was dead now. He was the personable one. He was the one everyone liked. Wash didn’t seem to like her much at all; she honestly didn’t know why he kept her alive. Not that she wasn’t glad of it.

North was dead, but she wasn’t. She wasn’t going to die. Not when the stupid fucker died because he tried to help her. Died because of her.

She pushed that thought back into the deep recesses of her mind too.

It had been a couple of days. Washington was sitting a ways away as they took camp for the night, on their way to a destination Washington simply refused to name or explain why they were going there. He’d volunteered for watch duty, and South was glad to let him take it. Let that dickhead suffer from sleep deprivation, she didn’t care.

It was that night that a private channel appeared on her HUD, flashing up as she feigned sleep to avoid any possible conversation. Her brow furrowed as it rang; she was a dead woman, according to Project Freelancer. No one else should have her radio frequency. So, she answered, if only out of intrigue.

“ _Agent South Dakota?_ ”

Her eyes widened, “Four-Seven?”

“ _My handle is Control now, Agent South Dakota. Please adjust how you address me._ ”

“Fuck that! Four-Seven what the hell are you doing on control?!” She said, perhaps a little too loudly. Wash seemed to glance over, though he lost interest quickly.

“ _Agent South, address me correctly and lower your voice. You are not to be heard talking with me by Recovery One_ ,” Niner replied, her voice devoid of all the attitude their team used to know and love. South couldn’t help but wonder what had happened in the time they had been gone to turn her into _this_ , “ _I have a proposition for you, Agent South. On behalf of the Director._ ”

“You can tell the Director to shove his proposition up his arse−”

“ _I will remind you that all communication between control and its agents are recorded, and would advise you do not continue with that line of thought Agent South._ ”

South grumbled. That was definitely not the Niner she remembered, “Yeah yeah. I’m dead. Can’t do anything to me.”

“ _We are aware you’re not dead, Agent South_.”

South spoke with as much sarcasm as she could muster, “No shit.”

“ _Agent South, the Director would like to offer you the opportunity to return to Project Freelancer with no punishment for your previous actions; evaluation for implantation; and full reinstatement to previous rank once your task is over_.”

South scoffed at first, but found herself listening much more intently when the word ‘implantation’ came up, “…I’m listening.”

“ _You would be given the title of Recovery Two, however you would keep your previous rank and be ranked above Recovery One. You are to follow Recovery One, keep an eye on his activities, and as soon as possible collect combat logs on your pursuer_.”

“You guys _know_ it’s out here chasing us down?”

“ _Do you agree to the terms, Agent South_?”

Part of her was screaming at her to say no (that part sounded oddly like North), but biting her lip she considered what would happen if she did. They wanted her dead; they’d asked Washington to shoot her, after all. If she said no, wouldn’t they just have her killed some other way? Make everything she’d done, make North’s death, completely in vain? She’d get an AI. She’d finally get an AI, isn’t that what she’d always wanted?

She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted anymore.

Her brother was dead because of her.

She said yes.

* * *

Washington was dead.

A lot of people were dead, nowadays. Carolina was fucking dead; York was fucking dead; North was _fucking_ _dead_ ; Washington was fucking dead. Connie was probably fucking dead too. Not that she fucking cared. No, South didn’t give a fuck.

She groaned, rubbing her head. She fucking gave a fuck. She gave too many fucking fucks. That’d always been her problem, hadn’t it? She gave too many fucks. Too many fucks about too many stupid things like the board; like Connie; like her brother; like being her own person; like the AI−

“You appear to be in mental turmoil, Agent South. Is there anything I can do to assist?”

Speaking of AI.

The laugh that hissed through South’s teeth was humourless and dark, “Yeah, you can shut the fuck up.”

“There is no need to be rude. I was merely asking if I could be of assistance,” Delta said, in that monotone, calm voice that drove South up the wall, across the ceiling and down the other goddamn wall. It was bad enough hearing it out loud, but now the fucker was in her _head_ too.

“Yeah, and I told you how you can be of assistance. Shut. The Fuck. Up,” She repeated, enunciating each word clearly to make sure her message _really_ got across. But the activity in her mind didn’t go away, in fact she could feel him prickling in the back of her skull as he tried to calculate the best response.

It ached. A dull ache in the base of her skull that never went away and that only got worse when he ‘spoke’. She knew that there were side effects to the implantation of these things in your head; York had whined about it for days, following Carolina or North around like a lost puppy and constantly complaining. She caught North popping pills at four hour intervals in the days after he got Theta. She was well aware of the side effects.

Didn’t mean she had to like it.

“I do not see how it would be of assistance if I, quote, ‘shut the fuck up’, Agent South.”

South groaned, “Are you fucking _serious_ right now?! Shut the fuck _up_!”

She felt the prickling in the base of her skull again, but this time she wasn’t going to give him time to reply. She twisted her arm around and reached for the back of her neck, forcefully ejecting the chip Delta had attached himself to. The prickling went away. She was in silence once again.

She sighed, an angry sound that was more a frustrated huff of air than a proper sigh, and flopped back onto the makeshift bed. Another abandoned freelancer facility, one of the old simulation bases. She thinks she remembers training at this one once. A mission with Connie. Connie who was just a rookie then. Connie who was _new_ and _excited_ and _not_ planning on leaking military secrets and getting herself on the fucking _most wanted_ list.

Fuck. She almost wished she’d left Delta in.

It wasn’t the first time she’d pulled him. At first she couldn’t, he was directly connected to her neural implant with no chip to separate them and draw the line between where she ended and he began. Then she’d managed to find an old chip that was compatible with her implant; insisted he went into it; and since then she’d pulled him pretty much every other day. Probably more often than that. It made the headaches go away, just for a few hours. It let her get some sleep. She knew she shouldn’t be pulling him so often, but she didn’t care. She was fine.

She was ignoring the fact that the headaches weren’t always going away anymore. And how her thoughts were becoming more disjointed.

She raked a hand down her face, heaving a sigh once more and closing her eyes. Her armour was off. It probably shouldn’t be. But she didn’t really care, not today. She’d find time to care later.

Washington was dead.

North was dead.

She wasn’t dead. That was something to be celebrated. Give herself a pat on the back, maybe. Well done, you made it another fucking day! Another fucking day on your own. Another fucking day wondering why that _thing_ didn’t kill you. Another fucking day wishing you’d never signed up, never done any of this. Another fucking day of hating yourself so much that you wanted to die, but being so selfish that all you want to do is live.

It was confusing, being Agent South Dakota.

And that’s all she was now. No one at Project Freelancer had known her real name besides North. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell anyone (or, well, someone), she picked her name herself she’d gladly shout it from the rooftops! But _North_ said they should follow protocol. _North_ said they should stick to the names the project had given them. So no one knew. And now she no longer felt a connection to that name she’d picked for herself. She wasn’t that person any more.

She wasn’t quite sure who she was, anymore. She’d always been ‘North’s twin’, one of a pair. She’d always wanted to be just her, one of a kind. She never figured that to be one of a kind she’d have to lose so much.

She never figured that to be one of a kind she’d have to be _alone_.

South sat up, shaking her hair out – the dye long since faded, and longer than she’d ever let it get before – and stretching down to grab her helmet. Dumping it unceremoniously in front of her she twisted around again, this time digging out her battered data-pad which soon joined the helmet on the bed. It didn’t take her long to connect them, flicking through the files that appeared on the data-pad’s screen when the connection went through.

Photos, videos, chat logs. For a moment, her finger hovered over the red button marked ‘Clear All’.

She clicked on the first file, instead.

There were photos from long before they’d joined the army; photos of two little blonde children in matching outfits but with opposite expressions; photos of the same two little blonde children sharing a birthday cake; photos of them playing with the same toys. There were photos from their teenage years, no longer dressed alike as they both came into their own, as _she_ came into her own. As she became who she really was. But always it was both of them.

There were photos from after they’d joined the army; a photo of the day they left home for the final time, surrounded by North’s friends whilst South hovered awkwardly; a photo of one of their first days at assignment, in their marine uniforms and looking comfortable with each other, the only familiar face to turn to. A whole array of photos of them on shore leave, laughing and joking together back when their relationship was strongest and none of the jabs were meant to hurt. One photo from when they were selected for the project, looking so proud of themselves. South remembered feeling so smug that she’d been selected as one of the best.

A snort. Salty tears were stinging her eyes. Fucking hell, since when did she cry? Since when did South Dakota cry?

There were so many videos. Too many to watch. Videos from missions, recorded for evaluation purposes using their helmet cameras. Others less formal, videos recorded by her and by others. Videos of the team together, off duty and messing around. Before everything went to shit.

A video of her and North watching Washington trying to sneak up on Maine; _trying_ , but failing. A video of drunk York lolling all over Carolina, whilst North tried to make him get up and go to bed. A video of Connie, hiding in the rafters of one of the rec rooms before she jumped down onto an unsuspecting Wash; a glance to North as it was about to happen, and then hysterical laughter as Wash squealed like a startled pig. A video of North and her sparring together, South determined to teach him how to fight up close; she’d pinned him, and they descended into laughter.

The tears were rolling down her cheeks now. She swiped them away, closing her data-pad and tossing it into her pile of supplies. Her helmet was discarded on the floor once more. She swiped the tears from her face again, shoving her fists into her eyes and spewing creative curses under her breath.

North was always there. But North wasn’t there anymore.

She tore up from the bed with a frustrated scream. An unarmoured foot shot out and kicked her makeshift bed into the wall; her nails dug into her palms, drawing blood. Her chest heaved with coarse, shaky breaths. Her body shook, frustration and hurt and hate all trying to escape at once.

“ _FUCK!_ ”

Her fist collided with the wall before she was even aware she was moving. Something cracked and snapped; a shot of pain searing up the nerves in her arm a reminder that she was unarmoured. There was a dent in the metal of the wall, shaped like her fist. Her muscles unknitted, her expression became so _tired_ , and her knees gave out all at once. She fell into a heap on the floor.

Freedom wasn’t meant to feel like this. It was never meant to fucking be like _this_.

* * *

She’d been on the run for months. That thing had finally found her again; it had her cornered, or it thought it did.

But this time she was ready, she knew exactly what she was going to do. She wasn’t going to make the mistake North did. Having an AI wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, anyway. It definitely wasn’t worth sacrificing her life for. No, South was going to live. She was going to live and she was finally going to escape and start a new life, far away from all of this shit.

Until Agent-I-Should-Be-Fucking-Dead-Washington turned up. Apparently, he had other ideas.

So here she was, leaning against a concrete pillar with her leg and side riddled with bullets and blood pooling at her feet. Her HUD was flashing warnings at her, but she didn’t really give a shit. Her breathing was laboured, her throat dry. She’d survived everything up until now, there was no fucking way she could let this take her down.

But Delta was smooth and swift. She’d learned in those months how easily the ‘logical’ AI could twist your words, could make his own conclusions with limited information. She figured she shouldn’t be surprised when he twisted what he’d seen in her head about North’s death to fit his argument. She wasn’t surprised at all when Washington raised his gun.

Huh. She should probably feel scared. She should probably be trying to bargain for her life, promising never to betray them again. Promise that she’d changed, that she’d seen the error of her ways. She should want to do anything she could to survive, wasn’t that the point? Wasn’t that the point of everything up until now?

“Oh come on, Wash. What’re you gonna do?”

She was going to finally get away. She was going to leave and never come back to this damn system, she was going to escape and start a new life where no one knew Agent South Dakota. Where no one would know she ever had a brother, let alone how she’d got him killed. Where no one would know she’d shot an old friend in the back, or that she didn’t regret it. She’d survived up until now, she was going to keep on surviving for as long as she could. Because that was what Agent South Dakota did, she _survived_.

“Shoot m−”

Until she didn’t.


End file.
